


If I Ever Lose My Faith In You

by Darby_Harper



Series: Grace Under Pressure [4]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: M/M, Murphy's Law, Parental Disapproval, Same-Sex Marriage, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8216551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darby_Harper/pseuds/Darby_Harper
Summary: It's Richard and Christoph's wedding day and of course, Murphy's Law is in full effect.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: _**Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual person is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person). All rights reserved**_

:::::

[1]

Christoph Schneider woke up early the day of his wedding with a head that felt like a hundred little coal miners were inside it, hammering away merrily. He groaned as he cracked an eye open and quickly shut it again for the sunlight that was blazing through a crack in the bedroom curtains was blinding. He ached all over, his mouth tasted horrible, and what was worse, he had no memory of what had happened the night before.

“Oh dear God,” he groaned, burying his face in the pillow. “What the _fuck_ happened last night?”

A whimper from behind him made him peer over the blankets; when he pulled one of them back he saw his husband-to-be staring at him with bloodshot eyes in a very pale face. “You don’t remember?” he whispered, obviously trying to be considerate of both their headaches. “Till, Paul, Ollie and Flake threw us a bachelor party at Ollie’s last night. If it wasn’t for Khira Li being in town for the wedding, we’d still be passed out on Ollie’s living room floor.”

“Bless her,” Christoph replied, just as softly. “Wait. She didn’t haul us up here by herself, did she?”

“No,” Richard groaned, pulling a pillow over his head. “That was Till and Ollie. Of course, they were as shit-faced as we were, so your guess is as good as mine as to how they got us up here without damaging the furniture, the walls…our heads.”

“Rise and shine, oh happy couple!” came a woman’s voice from outside the bedroom door. Both men whimpered and shoved their heads more firmly under the pillows, hoping that the ringing in their ears would subside soon. Whoever it was threw open the curtains, flooding the room with light.

“Good morning dad, uncle Christoph! Time to get up! It’s such a lovely day for a wedding, don’t you think?”

“If you were not my child I would kill you where you stood,” growled Richard, peering warily out from under his pillow. “My brain is melting out my ears and you’re all sunshine and puppies. For the love of God, shut the curtains back and let us sleep!”

“Nope!” Khira Li said as she crossed the floor and pulled the pillows from her father’s face and Christoph’s. They glared at her, Christoph baring his teeth in a hiss, which did nothing to lessen the smile on Khira Li’s face. “Up, up, up! I knew neither of you would be civilized enough to be out in public before noon, so I put breakfast together and it better not going to go to waste. Now, I’ll be back at one to make sure you two are ready to go over to Uncle Paul’s, and you’d better be ready because I don’t care what condition you two are in, I’ll drag you out of here if I have to.”

“Where did that sweet little girl I used to go ice skating with go?” Christoph sighed, snuggling into Richard’s shoulder. “Khira Li, you used to be so…less bossy.”

“It’s not every day my dad and the man he loves are getting married,” Khira Li replied, leaning over to kiss her father and ruffle Christoph’s hair. “I’ll be back at one, like I said. Get dressed, eat, clean up and be ready. And….I’m so happy for you both.”

Before either Richard or Christoph could get up, Khira Li dashed out the door, calling “Bye!” over her shoulder. Thankfully, she did not slam the front door; they’d been holding their breath in case she did. Christoph slowly crawled out of bed, holding his head in his hands as he slowly maneuvered his way to the bathroom. Richard pulled himself up in bed, biting back a groan as his inner ear swam and settled, making him nauseated.

“The last thing I remember was Till pulling out these canning jars full of...something,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair and wincing when his fingers caught on a snag and pulled. “Fuck, I know what it was, it was that moonshine Peter brought back from his cousin's house in the States. If we don't die from some kind of exotic poisoning, we'll be lucky.”

“You and Paul got into a drinking contest with that shit,” Christoph said as he came out of the bathroom. “Till told you both that more than a couple shots of moonshine would fuck you up royally. And of course, you both managed to finish off two of the four big jars he had in under an hour. I stuck to vodka because I remember the last time we had any of that moonshine. You could clean grease off of car parts with it, and I'm pretty sure Flake took a jar home to see if it would!”

Richard sighed and slid off the bed, staggering across the room and into the bathroom. He stared into the mirror, grimacing at the ache in his lower back and right shoulder. “I hope Paul has a bigger headache than I do,” he growled. As he woke up more fully, he saw something out of the corner of his eye in the mirror, and when his foggy brain figured out what it was, he shrieked at the top of his lungs, bringing Christoph running.

“Who...how...what the fuck is on my back?” he yelled, awkwardly trying to twist around to look at his lower back better. “ _Christoph Schneider_ , do you have anything to do with this?”

Christoph came to a skidding stop in the doorway, spotted what his lover was shouting about and stuffed a fist in his mouth to keep from laughing. He coughed, choked on his first comment, then tried again. “Well, you said last night you weren't going to travel clear into Berlin to get a tattoo and you really had to have one _right now_ , so Till called a couple of his friends. They came over, brought their tattoo stuff and...voila.”

Inked across Richard's lower back, just below his belt-line, was an intricate tattoo in shades of red and blue of water and flames twisted together. Buried deep inside the design was the band's logo, so well hidden you had to stare at the design for a moment to see it. “You have to admit, love, it's really well done,” Christoph said, still choking back his giggles. “You're not supposed to get tattooed when you're drunk but you insisted. We tried to talk you out of it, especially Paul, but you said if you didn't get a tattoo before you got married you were going to be upset. So there you have it.”

Richard didn't say a word, he simply staggered back to bed and piled the covers over himself.

:::

Thankfully, Richard worked through his snit-fit quickly enough for his breakfast to still be warm. Christoph had given up trying to coax him from under the covers after a couple of minutes, declaring that he was starving to death and that if Richard wasn't out in the kitchen in ten minutes, his breakfast would be forfeit. Poking his nose out from the blankets, he smelled chocolate, vanilla and cinnamon, which made his stomach growl.

“All right, all right, you don't have to be so noisy,” he muttered to his stomach as he dragged on a pair of jeans that looked (and smelled) halfway clean, and pulling a battered and hole-covered t-shirt that had seen better days over his head, wincing when the soft material made contact with the fresh ink on his back. Thankful that the jeans were loose enough to ride low on his hips and not irritate the tattoo further, he padded into the kitchen and gingerly sat down at the table. Christoph pushed a steaming cup of coffee at him; Richard nodded his thanks and carefully drank down half the cup before saying, “Do we have anything like aspirin around here?”

“Right next to the sugar bowl,” his partner replied softly, head propped up on one hand as he stared blearily into his tea. “Give me a couple while you're at it?” Richard fished a couple tablets out of the bottle and handed them to Christoph, then knocked back his own dose with the last of his coffee. “I don't know what hurts more, my head or my ass.”

“We didn't have sex last night so I can't see how your ass is hurting,” Christoph reply slyly, poking Richard's calf with his toes, earning him a snarl that quickly turned into an impish smile. “Look. I'm sorry I didn't stop you from getting that tattoo. I tried, honestly, I did.”

“I'll get used to it eventually,” Richard replied, cutting into his chocolate chip pancakes and sighing happily at the flavors that burst on his tongue. “I think I can forgive Khira Li for the rude awakening. These pancakes are wonderful.” Christoph nodded in agreement, saying, “I'll put some bandages over your tattoo to keep your clothes from rubbing it raw. We must have lost the original bandages somewhere between Till's house and here.” They finished their breakfast in silence, hoping the aspirin would kick in before they had to leave for Paul’s house, which was near a gorgeous old estate that had been renovated into a place that weddings, anniversary dinners and the like.

Christoph had found the house while driving to Paul’s home from the apartment he shared with Richard and had fallen in love with the old estate, from its tiny pocket gardens to the gorgeous wooden floors that had been restored to their original beauty. He’d all but dragged Richard to see the place for himself and he had to admit, there wasn’t any place nicer to hold their wedding. As it was winter, the gardens lay dormant under the snow, but their colorful hues weren’t missed as every tree on the property had been strung with white and silver lights, while inside the house, there were several Christmas trees, all decorated in different styles and colors. Richard’s favorite was a small tree that sat in the entrance-way of the house, its sturdy green branches hung with tiny lead crystal beads and little bows made from shades of red and silver, while Christoph’s was a tree in the library that had been covered in little handmade wooden toys and musical instruments. Richard had laughed himself sick when Christoph had discovered the tree, his stifled “squee!” of delight making him blush and look around to make sure no one had heard him. So he wouldn’t be tempted to touch anything, he grabbed one of Richard’s hands and shoved the other into the pocket of his jacket. It didn’t stop him from all but bouncing up and down, his blue-green eyes wide and sparkling with delight.

“You’re such a kid sometimes,” Richard snickered, leaning over to kiss his lover’s flushed cheek. “Between you and Paul and your marathon-watching Spongebob Squarepants at his house once a week…”

“And Gravity Falls, and Lego Star Wars, and South Park, and the PowerPuff Girls,” Christoph said, turning to kiss Richard properly. “Plus you’ve gotten addicted to Archer and Star Wars Rebels, don’t deny it.”

“ _Mea culpa_. Although you’ll have to admit, Star Wars Rebels _is_ pretty cool,” Richard replied as they made their way out of the library and out to Christoph's Jeep so they could go into the city and start the process of getting their marriage license completed. “You can be so bloody adorable,” Christoph countered, giving Richard’s hand a squeeze and turning a bright smile on him.

“Can be? I _am_ , sweetheart,” Richard replied, raising an eyebrow as he handed Christoph his jacket and sliding into his. “Now, are you sure you have all the paperwork we need for our license?”

“It's in a folder in the Jeep,” Christoph replied. “Two copies of everything, in fact. We both know how long the process takes, I'm not letting anything get in the way of my wedding.”

“And that's why I love you,” Richard said. “When you set your mind on something, nothing stops you.”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“How long have we been sitting here?”

Christoph, who had been playing Angry Birds on his mobile, looked through his lashes at Richard, who'd been trying to read his e-mails on his own mobile but had been growing more and more nervous the longer they were waiting. “I dunno. Half hour, forty-five minutes? We got here twenty minutes early for our appointment, so...cool your jets, Reesh. There's probably several couples ahead of us.”

Richard sighed and tried to go back to his reading but gave up. Closing the mobile down, he shoved it back into his pocket and leaned back in his chair, resting his head against the wall. He'd been nervous when he'd gotten married the first time, but not _this_ nervous. He was terrified that he was making a mistake, that he was going to ruin Christoph's life by marrying him, that he was...

“You're twitching. Stop it,” Christoph muttered, poking Richard's shaking knee with his mobile.

“I can't help it,” Richard hissed back, wiping his sweating hands on his jeans. “I don't want to fu---screw this up, Doomie.” That he was calling him by his nickname made Christoph close out his game and put his mobile in his jacket pocket. “I'm...I'm scared.”

“You don't think I'm nervous?” Christoph asked, reaching for one of Richard's hands and squeezing it gently. “Love, I'm so scared I'm numb. Don't go looking for that bottle of cherry and apple vodka, I drank the last of it this morning while you were getting dressed. We're in this together, all right? One heart, one soul, one...us.”

Richard blinked tears back, looking down at his boots to force himself not to sniffle. When he looked back up, Christoph's green-blue eyes were just as shiny, and the tip of his nose was red, the way it would turn when he was trying not to cry. “I'm being stupid, aren't I?” Richard murmured. Christoph laughed softly and said, “No more than usual. Now, if we don't get our paperwork processed today, we've got about a week or so's worth of slack before it's down to the wire. We're doing fine, so take a deep breath before you pass out.”

Christoph's dry comment, delivered with a hint of his impish smile, made Richard snort-laugh and pull his mobile back out of his pocket. Rather than go back to reading e-mails, he pulled up the Star Wars version of Angry Birds and lost himself in the game. He was so deeply engrossed in the game he didn't hear his and Christoph's name called; only being poked in the knee again by Christoph brought him out of his reverie. He shot up from his seat, clumsily shoving his mobile into his jeans pocket at the same time turning it off, letting Christoph introduce them to the wizened old man that was waiting for them. He was glad that his partner was the one who had the leather folder with all their paperwork, his hands had started to sweat so badly again he was sure he would have dropped it nine times before they got in the door.

Inside the registrar’s office, the air was close and almost too warm for Richard but he didn’t dare unbutton the sleeves of his dark pewter dress shirt and shove them up his arms. Something told him that any less than being as proper and mannerly as possible would give the old man behind the heavy wooden desk an excuse to either delay their paperwork if not reject it outright. Sneaking a look at Christoph when he was sure the clerk wasn’t looking their way, he saw that his partner was as collected and calm as could be, from his dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail, to the dark green dress shirt he had on down to the razor crease in his trousers and black boots polished to a matte sheen. The only way Richard could tell Christoph was nervous was the occasional restless twitch of the fingers on his right hand.

The clerk cleared his throat, the noise explosive in the quiet room. Richard started, almost popping clear out of his seat and catching himself at the last second. Christoph laid one hand on top of Richard’s and gave it a quick squeeze and a shy smile. “I’m nervous too,” he whispered, squeezing Richard’s hand one last time and settling back in his chair. The old man shuffled through their paperwork, putting some in one pile, others he left lie in front of him. Every once in a while, he would scribble something on a pad of paper and mutter to himself, then shoot a glance at the two men that could have meant anything. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “It is my understanding that you two wish to have a marriage certificate issued, am I correct?”

“Uh, yeah, uhm, yes it is,” Richard stammered. Christoph nodded and said, “Yes, we do. Please.”

“You’ve both been married before and the divorces are complete?”

Christoph and Richard both nodded their heads.

“And you’ve submitted all the necessary paperwork to me today.”

They nodded again.

“You realize that you have a certain amount of time to go before a registrar and have the ceremony performed, yes?”

“I, I mean, we do, yes,” Christoph said, his voice growing smaller by the moment. Richard could only nod, for he was afraid if he did speak, his voice would be a tiny squeak of sound, no more.

The clerk made a ‘harrumph’-ing sound and went back to sorting through the papers Richard and Christoph had provided. As he went through their passports, he raised an eyebrow at Richard’s and said, “You’re quite the traveler _Herr_ Kruspe. New York, Canada, Spain, quite an impressive list.”

“I’m a musician, sir,” Richard said softly.

"And are you as well, _Herr_ Schneider?” the clerk asked. Christoph nodded and said, “We’re in the same band together.” Silence reigned for several more moments with the clerk occasionally writing more on his pad of paper, and the two men feeling cold sweat oozing down their spines. Christoph was literally sitting on his hands by this point while Richard worried at a button on the cuff of his shirt. The clerk stood up at last and came around his desk with their paperwork lying on top of the folder it had been in, along with the form that they would need to have their marriage registered. Holding out an old-fashioned fountain pen, the man said, “I just need your signatures on the first page, and date them. The form underneath is for the day you go to the registrar’s office, you and your witnesses will sign that.” Once Christoph and Richard had signed their names and handed the pen back, the clerk smiled at them and held out a hand for them to shake.

“Congratulations, and may you have a long, happy life together,” he said, dark eyes twinkling and taking the stern look from his face. “I wish my brother was alive to see this, the day that he could have gotten married to the love of his life. Having to keep their relationship a secret till the end was so hard on him and I think that was one of the reasons he died so young.”

“I’m sorry,” Richard said, sliding an arm around Christoph’s waist and holding him close. “I wish it hadn’t taken so long for same-sex marriages to become legal here, and I’m sorry that so many people went through so much heartache. But thank you for the congratulations, we appreciate it.”

“I think this will be the last time for me,” Christoph said, a cheery smile breaking across his face. “At least this time out my bride to be is from the same country as I am and we don’t have to deal with all that chaos!”

“ _Bride to be?_ ” Richard snorted. “When did I suddenly become the bride?”

“Because I’m younger than you?” Christoph asked, green-blue eyes wide and innocent. Richard rolled his eyes dramatically, handed Christoph his coat while he shrugged his on, and muttered, “Only by a year, you idiot!” The clerk hid a broad smile behind a hand, and held the door to his office open for the lovebirds, who wished him a good afternoon and continued their playful argument down the hallway to the elevator.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That's it. Now I know you're trying to kill me."

Christoph was digging through the bottom of his closet, throwing shoes, boots and the occasional piece of luggage across the bedroom. He sighed noisily and yelled, “Richard! Do you know where in the hell I put my boots?”

Richard ducked around the doorframe and said, “My dear, you have like thirty pairs of boots scattered all over the floor. Which pair are you talking about?”

Christoph pulled himself out of the closet, hair all over the place and eyes still wide from the semi-darkness of the closet. “You know which ones I’m talking about, the ones that I bought when we went to see the Kentucky Derby last year! The ones that look like fancy-pants riding boots.”

Richard eased his way into the room, picking his way through the obstacle course like a cat. He stopped halfway across the room, bent down and picked up a pair of zip-up paddock boots that were still attached by a length of plastic wire through the zipper pull. “Are these what you’re looking for?” he asked, dangling the boots near Christoph’s face. With a grunt, Christoph yanked the boots from Richard's hand, muttering “Thank you,” under his breath. Richard snort-laughed and went back to the living room where he was working on getting his own things together for the wedding. He heard a shriek coming from the bedroom and at first ignored it, but when Christoph screamed again, he was up and running for the bedroom to find him up on the bed, pointing at something small and black on the floor nearby.

“ _SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER!”_

Richard swallowed, feeling nervous sweat begin to break out on his scalp. While he was no fan of spiders, Christoph's fear was much worse, and had been a subject of much teasing until he'd lost his temper one afternoon with Till, who had been the worst at teasing him, and had walloped the daylights out of him. Since then the band had kept their teasing to a minimum, but every once in a while, just to see him scream, someone in the band would produce a fake spider and put it somewhere he wouldn't suspect finding it. But now, there was a real spider making its merry way across the bedroom floor, and Christoph was close to having a conniption fit over it.

“Hang on a minute, let me get a cup and I'll take it outside,” Richard called to his partner as he ran into the kitchen to fetch a cup and a magazine.

“You’re going to let it go? Richard, it’ll come back in the house and eat me up!” Christoph yelled, curling up into a ball on the bed and pulling the blankets over himself. “Kill the damn thing!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Richard muttered, coming into the room with the cup and magazine. Steeling his nerves, he swept down on the spider and caught it handily in the cup, shoving the magazine underneath so he could pick the invading bug up without touching it, and carried it outside where he let it go on the sidewalk. The spider took a moment to orient itself, then went jogging down the street and under a brick. With a sigh of resignation, Richard went back inside, putting the cup in the sink to be washed and threw the magazine away.

“It’s gone, Chris,” he yelled. “I let it go, I just couldn’t kill it.”

“If it comes back and bites me and all my fingers fall off because it’s poisoned me, I’ll kill you!” Christoph yelled back, voice only slightly muffled by the bedclothes he still had wrapped around himself. Richard rolled his eyes heavenward, counted to ten, then went into the bedroom to scold his partner. “We don’t have those kind of spiders here in Germany, idiot.”

“It…it could come over on a boat! Or someone could get one as a pet and let it go because they got bored with it!”

Richard couldn’t take any more. He grabbed a loose end of one of the blankets and pulled it, hard, flipping Christoph over and off the bed, where he landed on the bedside rug with a stifled grunt of pain. “Damn it Reesh, you could have been a bit more gentle!” he snapped.

“I’m not taking all fucking day coaxing you out of bed because a spider scared you silly,” Richard replied, holding a hand out so Christoph could pull himself up from the floor. He was slightly off balance and when Christoph pulled, he lost his balance and fell down. He managed to catch himself on his palms so he didn’t drop all of his weight on his lover, but what landed was enough to drive the air out of both of them. Wheezing, Richard rolled off Christoph, eyes watering as he tried to catch his breath.

“That’s it, now I know you’re trying to kill me,” Christoph muttered, rolling away from Richard until he could sit up.

“I didn’t do it on purpose! If you’re going to be like this all day, then let’s just cancel the wedding. I can’t take much more of you being a bitch,” Richard snapped.

“Me being a bitch? Oh, and like you aren’t being one, getting fussed at me because I’m scared of spiders and then you got mad at me this morning because I forgot toothpaste when I went to the market last week and…and…” Christoph hissed back, running out of things to snap at Richard at. They sat and stared at each other for a moment, then Richard began giggling.

“What’s so fucking funny, asshole?”

“Oh my God… _us_ , Doomie. It’s our wedding day and we’re sitting here screeching at each other like a pair of teenage girls fighting over the last pair of jeans at a sale,” Richard giggled. “Look, I’m sorry I gave you grief about the spider, and I’m sorry I yelled about the toothpaste. And I’m sorry I squished you just now.”

Christoph tried to glare at Richard but one look at his wide, innocent eyes and half smile made him smile, which turned into giggles rapidly. He crawled across the floor and slowly pushed Richard backwards until he lay flat on the floor, pinning him down. “Kiss me you idiot, and I might consider forgiving you,” he purred, long curls sliding forward to tickle Richard’s face. Their lips met in a slow, deep kiss, and when they parted, Richard murmured, “You think we have time for a quickie?”

Christoph looked at his watch and began pulling his t-shirt off. “Maybe two quickies if you hurry up and get your pants off, Kruspe.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay between chapters, writer's block sucks blue whale balls.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I guess I _have_ to kiss you now, Doomie."

+++

"You think he’s going to back out at the last moment?”

 

Till shot Ollie a glance through his bangs, pushing them back with a sigh. The band’s lanky bass player was leaning against a wall outside the ballroom of the manor house that Richard and Christoph’s wedding was to be held in. Dressed alike in sharp black suits, crisp, white button-down shirts and black ties, Till and Ollie all but blended into the shadows of the hallway save for the matte gleam of Ollie’s bald head. They’d been watching guests come and go for the past half hour, speaking to some, smiling at others. Flake and Paul were with the grooms-to-be, partially for moral support and maybe to keep one of them from fleeing, screaming into the afternoon, terrified of the commitment they were about to make to one another.

 

Till didn’t have to ask Ollie “who” he meant; he’d been on the phone with Richard several nights earlier, letting his long-time friend unload all his fears about marrying again. He was convinced that Christoph was going into the marriage with blinders on as to who Richard was under the public mask he kept up, that he wasn’t going to be able to be all that Christoph wanted in a husband, among other things. Till hadn’t said a word, he’d let Richard talk until he was hoarse, and said, “If you weren’t the one Christoph wanted, he’d have left you by now. You’ve always been too hard on yourself, Scholle. Christoph loves you more than anything in the world and if you left him, he’d fall to pieces. Do that to him and I’ll hunt you down and kill you where you stand. He’s one of my best friends too, if you haven’t noticed.”

 

Before Till could answer Ollie, Paul came puttering up the hallway, a bright smile on his face and hands full of tiny ivory and red rosebuds. He held one each out to Till and Ollie, saying, “You’d better put these on yourselves, I’ve stuck my fingers I don’t know how many times getting these stupid flowers on Doomie and Reesh’s coats.” Till took his boutonniere and snugged it to his left lapel while Ollie sniffed at the flowers before doing the same. “I’m glad your wife was able to find these with it being winter and all,” he commented to Paul, who reached up and flicked a stray drop of water from where it had landed on his shoulder.

 

“Arielle is a wonder, isn’t she? You should see some of the stuff she’s come up with at the last moment for different jobs she’s been on,” Paul replied, carefully straightening his own boutonniere, then quickly running his hands over his sleek cap of dark brown hair. Flake poked his head out of the room that Richard and Christoph were getting ready in and said, “They’re ready, or as ever as they’re going to be.”

 

Following Paul into the ballroom, Ollie and Till found their seats at the front of the room and were soon joined by Flake, who was smiling slightly. Ollie poked him in the ribs; Flake covered his mouth with a hand and whispered, “I think they “indulged in the agriculture” a bit, if you know what I mean. They’re back there giggling like little girls, and Christoph’s got hiccups. And before you go yelling, neither Paul nor myself were responsible for the weed. I think that might have been a last-minute present to the grooms to be from Joey Letz.” Ollie’s snort-laugh was barely enough to be heard by the people around them, but Paul and Till did and soon they were trying to hide their own giggles.

 

“I don’t know what’s so funny but if you don’t tell me I’m gonna be really cross at you,” came Khira Li’s hissed comment from behind Paul’s shoulder. He turned around, still giggling and said, “Your dad and Doomie are a bit high, and Doomie’s got hiccups.” Khira Li sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes, saying, “Why am I not surprised? Oh, and Constance wants to know if their parents are here.”

 

Till growled softly in his chest and muttered, “Nope. I’m not embarrassed to say if they showed up I’d gladly pitch them into the fish pond.”

 

“You and me both,” Ollie said, voice hard and brittle, which was surprising for him. He was normally very soft-spoken and easygoing; for him to speak as he had spoken volumes for how much he cared for Christoph. “I’ll hold them down till they quit wiggling and the bubbles stop coming up.”

 

Constance Schneider, Christoph’s little sister, came hurrying up the grey-carpeted aisle, her ankle length, blue and gold silk dress

shimmering in the warm overhead lights. She tapped Khira Li on the shoulder and said, “It’s time.” Khira Li nodded, smiled at the others, and followed the blonde-haired woman out, her scarlet and silver silk dress exactly like Khira Li’s in cut and length, her dark hair pulled into a loose bun that had tiny silver stars sprinkled through it. Khira Li’s hair was in the same type of style, only her hair sported blue stars. The doors were pulled partially shut behind them, and the ballroom lights were lowered a touch more, the lights taking on a rose-gold hue. The air was heavy with various perfumes, the scent of tea roses, hairspray, and a hint of cold air from outside through a tiny crack in one of the large windows that overlooked the wide expanse of snow-covered white lawn outside. All but a few trees were wrapped in bright white lights that gleamed on the snow, looking like stars had fallen from the dimming sky and nestled in the snow.

 

The officiant was an old friend of Christoph’s from his stint in the Army. Karl had been surprised and very pleased that Christoph had asked him to officiate over his marriage to Richard. He’d kept up with his old squad-mate’s career and hadn’t been the least surprised as to Christoph had ended up with. Besides promising to keep the ceremony short and religion free, he’d been given free reign as to what he was going to say, and he’d stayed up late several nights trying to design something that would be dignified and funny in the appropriate spots.

 

A chime from his cell phone told him that it was time to get going, so he stepped out of the small powder room he’d taken over to wait in and walked into the ballroom, not even trying to hide the smile that bloomed across his face. He nodded to the two men who stood near the doors; the ballroom doors swung open slowly, letting a flower filled breeze gust through the room. The attendants stood and turned, all eyes locked on the little group standing in the doorway.

 

Khira Li held her father’s arm, a wide smile on her face, while Constance held her brother’s arm, her bright blue eyes twinkling even though the shimmer of tears were on her lashes. Both men wore black suits and ties like the rest of the band, while their boutonnieres were larger white rosebuds edged in gold and the ribbons that tied the flowers matched Constance and Khira Li’s dresses. The little group came slowly up the maroon carpet runner, allowing the band’s photographer, Olaf Heine, to snap as many pictures as he liked. Richard and Christoph were outwardly as sober as judges but those who knew them well could see the squashed giggles in their eyes and the occasional twitch of Richard’s lower lip. Once they were at the end of the runner and in front of Karl, Khira Li and Constance let go of Richard and Christoph’s arms, gave them each a hug and kiss, and found their seats in the audience. Constance let out a soft sniffle and took the tissues Paul’s wife handed her, while Khira Li grabbed Till’s hand and let him snuggle her to his side. Tears ran down her pretty face and she let them, uncaring that anyone saw her cry. Flake’s daughter, Anne, leaned over to pat her shoulder, her own smile wide and slightly tear filled.

 

Karl smiled broadly at the two men in front of him, noting with an inward laugh that Christoph was having a very hard time not laughing. He bit his lip, nodded at Karl, turned and took Richard’s hand as Karl cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. As silence fell, Christoph and Richard’s pot-induced humor faded away as the solemnity of the moment came over them.

 

As promised, Karl kept his word about the length of the ceremony and what was said. Neither Richard nor Christoph could remember what was said if they’d been asked until much later; they were too wrapped up in each other. When Karl asked for the rings, Till slid out of his seat and walked up to the couple, handing the shining gold bands out to them, stopping long enough to hug them both, hard, quickly dashing tears out of his eyes as he went back to his seat. More words were said, rings slipped onto sweat and tear-damp fingers, and Karl said, “May you be happy, healthy and in love forever, Christoph, Richard.”

 

“I guess I _have_ to kiss you now, Doomie,” Richard said in his best stage whisper. Christoph’s sputtering half-laugh, half-sob was broken off by the kiss, and the sound of applause covered his sniffles and Richard’s as well. Pressing their foreheads together, Christoph whispered, “Thank you, Richard, for everything. Thank you for loving me.”

 

“Back at you, sweetheart. Back at you.”

:::

The reception went late into the night. By the time the last guest had wished the newlyweds well, Christoph was half-asleep, snuggled up to Richard on the velvet couch they’d taken over as theirs. The cushions were soft and squishy and had almost swallowed Paul up when he’d sat down next to Richard early in the evening, much to his chagrin. Ties hanging loosely around their necks and the top buttons of their shirts undone, the couple basked in the warm glow of ample wine and food. Richard was idly admiring the way the nearby candlelight shone on the surface of the wineglass he was holding, his other arm slung around Christoph’s shoulders. He yawned hugely, drank off the last of his wine and set the glass on a nearby table. Gently, he shook Christoph awake, murmuring, “Hey sweetheart, it’s almost three in the morning. Everyone’s cleared out but us and my ass is asleep.”

 

Christoph came around with a yawn just as wide as Richard’s, stretching his arms up until the joints in his shoulders popped and cracked. “It’s almost three? How long have I been out?”

 

“Well, you haven’t started snoring, but you’ve been pretty quiet the last hour or so. Let’s get out of here so the cleaning staff can get started on this mess,” Richard replied, slowly standing up so he wouldn’t throw himself off balance. The high from the small joint he’d shared with Christoph earlier had worn off long ago, but he’d had a bit more wine than he should, so he wasn’t going to move too fast until he was sure he was stable. Christoph slid an arm around his waist, leaning in to nuzzle Richard’s hair as he did so. “So glad we’re staying here a couple of days,” he sighed. “Don’t wanna go anywhere except to bed right now.”

 

“Agreed,” Richard replied as they left the reception hall, nodding at the front desk attendant as they went up the wide staircase to their room. The hallway was dimly lit and quiet, the carpeting thick enough to muffle the sound of their footsteps. Richard unlocked the door to their suite and said, “Flip a coin to see who gets to carry who over the threshold?”

 

“Get your pretty ass in there before I _throw_ you over the threshold,” Christoph snorted, giving Richard’s behind a sharp smack, and shoving him into the room. Taking a second to hang the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the doorknob, he shut the door and locked it as he said, “We can flip a coin?”

“To hell with that. Married or not, I’m going to sleep. We’ll flip a coin in the morning,” Richard snort-laughed. “After we’ve had breakfast, that is.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The is the end of this tale but not the end of the stories about these two that I have hanging out on my hard drive! Thank you all so much for reading this and being patient with my updates!


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